At the end of the day, when I look in the mirror
Just what do I see?
It’s the face I created, the face I want the world to know.
But when the hair comes undone, or the hat comes off
When the makeup is erased and washed down the drain,
I see the face I love the most.
I see the uneven skin that shows I love to read outdoors,
I see the acne scars that prove I’m still a stupid kid.
I see the frizzy blonde hair and blue eyes that say I’m my moms,
And I see the uneven mouth and pointy chin that show I’m my dads.
When I undress from the day, and I stand naked in my room
I see much more.
I see the red lines from clothes that have tried all day to contain me,
But my skin never stopped pushing.
I see the stretch marks that prove I have had to grow into who I am.
I see the scars of a life I am proud to have lived.
I also see the untouched skin, the skin that still looks new.
I see the unmarked and unseen pages of my life on my skin.
I see the book of my body that is still waiting to be read.